


Cherry, Maple, Evergreen

by narnet



Series: The Three Scholars [2]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game), Guild Wars Series (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Polyamory, brief logan/rytlock in the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-26 12:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12059061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narnet/pseuds/narnet
Summary: Charr don't kiss like sylvari do.





	1. The Spark

**Author's Note:**

> Here I go, shipping characters in someone else's fanfiction.
> 
> This was particularly inspired by the dancing scene in [Chapter 7](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11095863/chapters/25704090) of Scholar's Sorrow. Permission to post has been granted by [Melociraptors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melociraptors)\- thank you for letting me use your character to speculate on how GW2 races smooch!
> 
> Rated T for some kissing (kind of?) but it doesn't go beyond that.

"Well, it was about time," said Trahearne.

The three of them stood atop a nearby rise, watching Rytlock and Logan field the reaction from the rest of Destiny's Edge with remarkable stoicism. Orin still wasn't sure she could believe it, despite having just heard the human and charr admit to being in a relationship. "I thought they hated each other."

Trahearne chuckled. "They've always wanted to impress each other too much for it to be simply a matter of pride. Apparently the rest of Destiny's Edge has been placing bets on _when_ for ages."

On Orin's other side, Sieran had a hand pressed to her chest. "Love really is wondrous," she said wistfully. "I'm so grateful to have had the chance to experience it for myself."

Orin shot her a quizzical look. "Since when? Not a week after we met, you were telling me that you wanted to experience it one day, or something like that."

Quite unexpectedly, Sieran flushed, a copper hue coloring her cheeks. "Oh... well, it's simply a turn of phrase..." She fumbled for words, and then caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. "Oh, one moment- Caithe! I, uh, wanted to have a word with you..." She rushed off down the slope to where Caithe was standing apart from the group, busy counting out what seemed to be a hefty sum of gold coins.

 _That was weird_ , Orin thought, _even for Sieran._

Back by where the rest of Destiny's Edge was gathered, Logan and Rytlock seemed to now be deeply regretting their announcement. Mr. Sparkles had thoroughly cut off all exits as Zojja grilled them with question after question.

"Well, good for them, I guess," Orin said. "Although... a charr and a human? Can that really last?"

Trahearne seemed unaffected. "No doubt there have been stranger things," he mused. "The world could use a little less hate, and a little more love."

Sieran returned to them not long after that, and they took their leave around the same time as Caithe, Eir, and Zojja.

As they walked away, Orin couldn't help but glance back at the new couple. Logan was grumbling some complaint, and Rytlock gave a rumble, rubbing the side of Logan's face with his own. Orin looked away out of modesty. In doing so, she noticed that Sieran was also watching the couple with an undisguised interest.

"Is that a charr thing?" Sieran asked curiously. "I've seen it before, between charr who were romantically inclined, but I didn't think much of it at the time."

Orin cleared her throat. "Yeah," she said, a little flustered by the line of questioning. "Charr have scent glands on our cheeks that we use to mark our partners. Doing that, it's... like a kiss."

Sieran turned away from Logan and Rytlock. "Interesting," she said, "how the races of Tyria can be so similar and yet so different. It's fascinating. Have I ever told you about sylvari pollen? We exude it from our skin, all year round but especially in the springtime-"

"We should hurry up," Trahearne called back, "if we want to make it to the camp by nightfall."

Sieran, to Orin's surprise, stopped her rambling, giving Orin a tight-lipped smile. "Yes! That's right. Sorry to hold things up!"

  


The topic didn't come up again for another few days, when the trio was ambushed by a group of bandits as they crossed a mountain pass. Despite easily being able to overpower each bandit individually, their numbers made for a difficult fight.

Four of them had managed to corner Sieran, and when she shrieked, Orin saw red. On her command a set of grasping hands broke through the ground and grabbed at their feet, and Trahearne covered Orin's back as she tore down two of the bandits in quick succession, daggers flashing.

Sieran handily dispatched the other two. "Phew," she breathed out as the last of them fell. "For a second I thought-"

Her words were cut off as Orin barreled into her, wrapping her up in a hug.

"That was too close," Orin muttered, rubbing her face against Sieran's with a rush of relief.

Sieran gave a breathless laugh. "Orin, that tickles! I'm fine, besides- Oh!" she gasped, pulling back and staring at Orin with wide eyes. "You just kissed me."

Orin stared back at her. She was suddenly very thankful that charr couldn't blush. "I- uh-" She stepped back, and when Sieran glanced to the side, Orin followed her gaze. Trahearne was standing a few feet away. He wasn't looking at them, but he had an air of attentiveness that told her that he had heard, and perhaps seen, what had transpired.

"Well! Let's keep going before more of them show up!" Sieran announced, sheathing her daggers and walking past the two of them.

Trahearne glanced at Orin, his expression mild. "Good idea," he said. "Onward, then."

Orin nodded, following behind them quietly. She was grateful for the silence. Her mind was spinning. She hadn't meant to do that… if she was being honest, she had forgotten that Sieran knew what it meant. She had just felt such relief that Sieran was okay.

What's more, she had the distinct feeling that Sieran had left some trace of scent on her as well. She knew that sylvari didn't have the same scent glands that charr did. So why could she still smell her so strongly, all vibrant maple and cherry blossom? Was it all in her head?

  


That night they camped out on a hilltop, in an area recently cleared by a group of Seraph. Trahearne took first watch. As usual, Sieran fell asleep almost immediately after laying down, but Orin lay awake until she couldn't feign sleep any longer.

Trahearne gave her a nod as Orin got up and moved to his side of the fire.

She sat beside him in silence for a while. She knew that Trahearne wouldn't bring up that day's events, not unless she did. Somehow that made it more imperative that she do so.

"What, uh..." she said at last. "What happened today was... it just..."

Trahearne had been listening patiently, but when she trailed off, he spoke up. "You don't have to explain," he said kindly. "Sylvari are no strangers to affection, and Sieran certainly inspires it." His smile was fond as he gazed across the fire at her sleeping form.

"Sylvari don't have pheromones, do they?"

Trahearne looked back at her.

Orin ducked her head. She wasn't sure if it had been a good idea to ask, but it had been bothering her. "I know you have scents. But I... from Sieran's skin, I thought, I mean, I can still... smell it." She stumbled over her words.

Trahearne leaned in closer. His golden eyes were steady and sure. "Do you mean our pollen?"

"Pollen?" Sieran had mentioned something about that.

Trahearne held out his arm. The skin glowed, and in its glow she could see small particles glinting like dust in sunlight. Orin was transfixed. "It doesn't serve any reproductive purpose, but we all have it, and its scent and hue differ slightly for each of us." He lifted his hand. Now that she was looking for it, she could see the specks on his palm, sparkling a brilliant gold. "Most other races don't even notice it, though I suppose that..." His eyes still locked on hers, he reached out slowly. "A charr with a keen sense of smell..." His palm skimmed the fur at the side of her face. Orin momentarily forgot how to breathe. "Might be able to recognize it."

Trahearne's scent was cool and crisp. Evergreen.

The sylvari withdrew, looking a little surprised at himself. "I apologize," he said quietly, lowering his gaze. "That was… inappropriate."

Orin shook her head. It was hard for her to concentrate, with Sieran's scent on one side of her and Trahearne's now on the other. "It's just a little overwhelming," she admitted. "I didn't realize that sylvari pollen was so strong."

"Charr have much more developed olfactory senses," Trahearne agreed quietly. "Sieran and I will be mindful of that from now on."

Orin snorted. "Sieran? Mindful?"

That earned a chuckle from Trahearne. "Well, you have a point there.”

Shortly after the conversation had faded into companionable silence, Orin stepped out into the darkness under the guise of relieving herself and scrubbed at her cheeks. It wasn't that she didn't like having their scents on her; they'd been traveling together for long enough that most charr could probably tell she stank of sylvari. But having them that strong was confusing, distracting. She didn't want to be constantly thinking about the sweet softness of Sieran's cheek beneath her own, or the smooth brush of Trahearne's palm-

Augh! Orin grabbed two fistfuls of grass, rubbing them onto her face. That seemed to help; fresh grass still made her think of sylvari, but not two sylvari in particular.

They were her friends. She'd even begun to think of them as her new warband. Adding in new feelings to the mix... surely that was too much. Too complicated. Orin was deeply grateful to have found them at all, and that was enough. It had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really love OT3s a lot...


	2. The Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're ready for how disgustingly saccharine this is. :)

After two days of Sieran avoiding her and acting even more high-strung than usual, Orin decided that she had to apologize.

Her chance came when they stopped at a Vigil outpost in Kryta. Soon after arrival, Trahearne went to go consult with one of the crusaders, leaving Orin and Sieran alone in their room. Sieran busied herself sorting through their bags, unpacking and organizing them with an uncharacteristic focus.

Orin took a deep breath. It was now or never. “I’m sorry for… the other day,” she said, feeling distinctly nervous as she fiddled with one of her daggers.

Sieran’s hands stilled. “For what?”

Of course Sieran would make her say it. “For the… kiss.”

Sieran’s cheeks turned a slightly darker shade, and she very pointedly did not look at Orin. “You don’t have to apologize,” she said quickly. “I’d already forgotten about it.”

“I’m really sorry.”

Sieran was quiet for a while. When she spoke next, she sounded so sad that Orin stared at her in alarm. “Oh, Orin,” she said softly. “Do you regret it that much?”

Orin panicked a little. ”I- well, no,” she stammered. “I just thought- I mean, I didn’t ask.”

“Was it bad?”

“No!” It felt like she and Sieran were having two very different conversations. “I just didn’t- I don’t know!”

She squeezed her eyes shut, and after a moment she felt Sieran’s hand on her arm, gently nestling into her fur. “I didn’t mean to confuse you,” Orin heard her say. “I care for you, truly I do.”

Orin opened her eyes to see Sieran looking at her apprehensively, standing uncomfortably close. “I… care about you too,” Orin said. Her voice was hoarse, and she cleared her throat.

Sieran was still staring at her. Orin’s heart started to beat faster.

“Mind if I return the favor?” Sieran asked, and before Orin could reply, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to Orin’s muzzle, just below her nose. When she pulled back, she was smiling. “It’s not quite the same, is it?”

“Sieran…”

“Oh.” Sieran’s face fell, just a little. “Have I messed things up again? I’m sorry; I’m no good at this.”

“At _what_?”

Sieran went silent again. “Do you still think of me as your mentor?” she asked finally.

Orin was taken aback by the question. “Well… aren’t you?”

Sieran nodded. “I suppose I am.” She released Orin and stepped back. “I’m going to go get some fresh air. Don’t… don’t pay it any mind. I’m not upset with you, I promise.” She flashed Orin a brief smile before turning and exiting the room.

Orin sat down on one of the beds. Her head hurt. Why would Sieran no longer be her mentor? Did she not want to be? It was possible, she supposed, that Sieran thought Orin no longer needed her guidance. But that was ridiculous… Orin still had so much to learn. If Sieran wasn’t her mentor, then that was one less reason for her to stick around.

She was still sitting there a few minutes later, when Trahearne stepped in. “Lilynth showed me an alternate route we can take,” he said, “that should avoid most of the- where’s Sieran?”

“She, uh, went to take a walk,” Orin said. No doubt Trahearne would see right through her feigned nonchalance.

His gaze was calm, but knowing. _Burn me._

“I see,” was all he said, walking over to where the contents of their bags were scattered across the table. He began to repack them, the methodical movements gradually making Orin feel more at ease.

After a while, he spoke up again. “Anything on your mind?”

Orin suspected this conversation wouldn’t lead anywhere she wanted to go, but Trahearne was so easy to talk to. He had a way of making her feel like she could say anything without fear of judgement. “Has Sieran said anything to you about wanting to stop her mentorship of me?”

Trahearne’s eyebrows rose slightly. “No, she hasn’t. Why?”

That was a relief, at least. Orin leaned back against the wall. “Just something she said… she was wondering if I still saw myself as her student, or something like that.”

“Hm.” Trahearne began to lace their packs closed, his deft fingers weaving the leather straps into precise knots. “Have you considered what might make her say such a thing?”

“You say that like you already know.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps Sieran wishes for you to think of her as your equal, rather than your superior.”

Orin tapped her claws on her leg. The thought had occurred to her, and she had to admit it made sense.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Trahearne asked curiously.

“No…” Orin gave a frustrated huff, shaking her head. “I just don’t understand why it matters. Mentor or not, I’d still see her the same way.”

“Ah. Perhaps that is the problem.”

“How is that a problem?” Orin exclaimed, louder than she'd meant to. She winced. “Sorry.”

Trahearne gave a wave of his hand. “I should have clarified.” He paused. “Have you considered that maybe Sieran no longer sees _you_ in the same light?”

Orin felt a frisson of nerves. “What do you mean?”

“It’s… not exactly my place.” Trahearne seemed reluctant to continue. _Tough luck_ , Orin thought. _You’re the one who brought it up._ “But it seems to me that-“

“It’s _not_ your place,” interrupted a voice, and both of them turned, startled, to see Sieran standing in the doorway.

Trahearne looked as shocked and guilty as she felt. “Sieran…”

Sieran crossed her arms. She was clearly trying to keep a neutral expression, but it twisted at the edges with hurt, and somehow that made it even worse. “If you’re going to talk about me, at least make sure I’m out of earshot.”

Orin’s stomach clenched. “Sieran, I’m sorry-“

She shook her head. “I’m not mad at you, Orin.” Trahearne seemed to wilt under the glare she leveled at him. “But I expected better from _you_.”

Before either of them could respond, she turned on her heel and strode quickly out of sight.

The air in the room suddenly felt quite cold.

Trahearne dropped his head into his hands. “Rusted thorns,” he groaned softly. “I am an idiot.”

Orin rather agreed with him, but that wasn’t much consolation. Sieran may not be angry at _her_ , but Sieran being angry at Trahearne was just as bad. This was all her fault. If she had just been able to keep her damn mouth shut-!

“It’s not your fault,” came Trahearne’s voice, wearily.

The fact that he was still trying to comfort her somehow made it even worse. She shoved herself to her feet, her claws clacking on the stone floor. “I’m sick of you always trying to sugarcoat things!" she snapped with unexpected vitriol. "Everything would be fine if either of you stopped talking in _riddles_ for once!”

With that, she strode out of the room. Trahearne didn’t make any move to follow her.

She ignored the side-eyes of the Vigil soldiers as she made her way outside, praying that she didn’t run into Sieran on the way. Luckily, there was no sign of her mentor, and she didn’t stop until she’d reached the shade of a tree a few hilltops over.

Orin growled and kicked at it; overhead, the branches shuddered. It didn’t make her feel much better, and now her foot hurt. Orin plopped down at its base, pulling her legs in to her chest.

What was wrong with her? She was acting like a cub. If Grough saw her like this, he’d kick her tail halfway to Hoelbrak. She let out a ragged breath, pressing her head against her knees. But so what if she’d acted a little immature… Trahearne and Sieran had been just as bad, if not worse. They never said what they meant. She knew that a lot of races would complain about the plant-people’s penchant for being cryptic, but it had never really bothered her until now.

It had gotten a little cold out, but Orin was reluctant to go back inside. Her ears twitched. From up above her came a slight pattering sound. She raised her head to see that the gray clouds overhead had grown darker, and drops of rain were now beginning to fall.

_Guess I should head back after all._

As she watched, there came a rumble of thunder, and the light drizzle became a hearty rain.

_Or not._

Orin curled into herself even more. At least it wasn’t a windy day; the tree provided decent shelter, despite the smattering of raindrops that still found their way onto her fur. _Just my luck_ , she thought miserably. She couldn’t help but think that she deserved it.

Orin wasn’t sure how long she sat there, staring out across the darkened fields.

“-in-“

Her ears swiveled. That hadn’t sounded like wind or rain.

“-Orin!”

She looked up to see a bedraggled figure walking through the downpour towards her. Upon noticing her gaze, it gave her a little wave.

A minute later, Sieran crested the hilltop, stepping partially beneath the shade of the tree. She was absolutely soaked, water sluicing down her leaves and petals, her cheeks flushed with exertion, but she was smiling. “ _There_ you are.”

Orin stared at her, mouth agape. "Sieran- why- ”

Sieran shook her head. “It’s okay,” she said. “I talked with Trahearne, and… you were right. We weren’t telling you the whole truth. It’s in our nature, I suppose, to be vague when we’re scared.”

“Scared?” Orin’s heart ached. “Why are you scared? Sieran, why don’t you want to be my mentor? Don’t you want to stay with us?” The question came out of her before she could stop it.

Sieran looked bewildered. “Of course… of course I want to stay with you!” She laughed, shaking her head, scattering droplets all around. “Orin, I _love_ you.” She froze. “Oops.”

The sound of the rain filled the silence between them as they stared at each other.

“You…” Orin started slowly, not sure if she had heard correctly. She heard Sieran’s voice from earlier, echoing in her head. _Love really is wondrous._

Sieran looked embarrassed, but not ashamed. “I can’t help it,” she said. “And I don’t want to keep it a secret. You’re marvelous, Orin. Just cherry. Being around you makes me so happy. And I want to make you happy, too.” She brought her hands to her chest, earnestly. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I feel much better just knowing that you know. I just hope that it doesn’t… that I haven’t ruined our friendship. That would be awful.”

Orin felt her heart beating in every one of her ears. Sieran liked her. No, Sieran loved her. The quirky, passionate, brilliant priory magister loved _her_.

“Well?” Sieran was watching her, waiting anxiously for a reply.

“It's... not that I don't feel the same. I just don’t know how to do this,” Orin stammered, staring at the ground. “A… relationship. I’ve never done this before.”

Sieran crouched beside her. “Well, neither have I!” she said. “Isn’t that grand?”

Orin looked up.

Sieran’s eyes were shining. “It will be an adventure!”

Before she even realized what she was doing, Orin reached out for her, drawing the sylvari into her arms. Sieran went gladly, laughing as she settled atop her and rubbed her wet face all over the fur on Orin’s cheeks. "Augh… Sieran!" Orin made a show of trying to duck away, but then she nuzzled back despite herself. Sieran’s pollen-scent bloomed in the humid air around them.

When Orin's chest began to rumble, Sieran gasped in delight. “You’re purring!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Orin muttered through her toothy grin. Happiness was filling her up like a bellows, bringing warmth and light. She rubbed Sieran’s face with her own, and purred, and purred.

  


A few minutes later, Sieran caught her attention by tugging lightly at her arm. “It’s stopped raining.”

Orin blinked, staring out across the hills. So it had. She felt a little disappointed, drunk on Sieran’s scent and the sound of her laughter. “Does this mean we have to go back?”

Sieran chuckled, her fingers toying playfully with Orin’s mane. “Unfortunately, yes,” she said. “Night will be falling soon, and Trahearne is probably worried about us.”

Some of her blissful daze disappeared. “What are we going to tell him?”

“Oh, the truth, I would imagine,” Sieran said. “I doubt he’d believe a lie, anyway.”

Orin nodded. “I… owe him an apology.”

Sieran got to her feet, reaching down to take Orin’s paw and help her up. “If you say so. I did talk to him earlier and tried my best to sort things out. Mind you, I still don’t appreciate him talking about me behind my back! But I doubt he’ll be doing it again anytime soon.”

The two of them walked together back to the outpost. Orin was still overjoyed by the recent revelation, but her happiness was marred by the memory of Trahearne sitting in their room, his head in his hands. He had only tried to help her; that’s all he’d ever done. _You sure did a fine job repaying him_ , scolded a harsh voice in her head. All through the walk, the guilt ate at her, until by the time they finally reached the doorway to their room, she was feeling decidedly nauseous.

Sieran stopped a few paces behind her. “I think I’ll stay out here for this one,” she said, patting Orin on the back.

“What? But-“

“Good luck! It’ll be fine!” Sieran nudged Orin inside and then disappeared down the hall.

Orin tried to be annoyed, but couldn’t quite manage it.

Trahearne was lying on one of the beds, his eyes closed; they opened when Orin entered, and he sat upright. “She found you,” he said, his voice full of relief. “I was getting worried.”

The guilty knot in her stomach only tightened. “Trahearne…” she began, her paw clenching into a fist. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

“You were being honest about your feelings,” he replied quietly. “That is a virtue that many could stand to learn from, myself and Sieran included.”

Orin shook her head. “I’m not… I’m not that honest.” Her heart squeezed in her chest. There was something else she had been trying to suppress: something that she knew she probably couldn’t have, but something that she also couldn’t deny.

Trahearne gave her a searching look. “Sieran confessed her feelings to you.”

Orin gaped at him. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say at all. “How did you know?”

“I’ve had my suspicions for a while. Coupled with her actions over the last few days...” He paused. “I know you don’t wish to be talked about behind your back, so feel free to come in.”

Orin was confused until she saw Sieran poke her head into the room, wearing a sheepish grin. “Sorry! I couldn’t help myself.”

“Remind me to never throw you a surprise party,” Orin muttered.

Sieran laughed and walked over to her, taking her hooked hand and running her fingers lightly over the metal.

Trahearne's eyes widened in recognition, but he didn't seem surprised. “Please, accept my humble congratulations. I am happy for you both.”

Orin cocked her head. He sounded sincere, but his words didn’t have the same lighthearted ring as when he’d been talking about Logan and Rytlock. Instead, he sounded almost… wistful?

Sieran had noticed too; her mirth waned somewhat, and she released Orin’s hand. “Trahearne… you said it would be okay.”

“And it is! Truly.” He got to his feet, but he had only taken one step before Orin blocked the doorway.

“Oh no you don’t,” she said. “We aren’t doing this again.”

“I wasn’t…” Trahearne trailed off, looking sufficiently rebuked. “My apologies.”

“It _is_ okay, right?” Sieran insisted. “It’s not going to interfere with our mission or anything like that, I promise.”

“I know it won’t,” Trahearne agreed. Orin watched him. He looked nervous. Maybe more nervous than she had ever seen him.

“Then what’s wrong?” Trahearne opened his mouth to reply, but Sieran cut him off. “Trahearne, I know you. You’ll keep everything bottled up inside like always. Act with wisdom, but _act_.”

“I…” Trahearne lowered his head. “You’re right.” He sat back down on the bed, taking a deep breath, and they waited for him to collect himself. “Did I ever tell you about Riannoc?”

Sieran’s brow furrowed, and she went to sit beside him. “I know of him, of course. He was a brave and valiant sylvari. The first of our kind to die.”

“Yes.” Trahearne was silent for a moment. “It is not common knowledge to those who are not Firstborn, but I loved him. And he loved me.”

Sieran placed a hand on his shoulder. It seemed to Orin that some shared pain passed between them, unique to their race. “I am so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” Trahearne said. “And yet… until recently, I have not allowed myself to love another.”

“Recently?” Sieran’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “Trahearne... oh, I am such a fool… I didn’t… It’s all right. Please, look at me.”

Trahearne’s face had been lowered, his expression hidden, but on her request it lifted, and his golden eyes were dark with shame.

Sieran looked between him and Orin, almost desperately. “It’s all right. Trahearne… I understand completely. I love her too.”

Orin and Trahearne exchanged looks of surprise. “Me?” Orin said numbly. “No- Sieran, he’s talking about you! Right?”

Now it was Orin and Sieran’s turn to share a look of doubt, staring back at Trahearne with matching expressions of confusion.

Trahearne glanced between them. Then he started to laugh, a surprised, slightly hysterical sound that Orin had never heard from him before. Sieran insistently beckoned Orin with her free hand. Orin went over to them, kneeling in front of the bed, and Sieran’s hand anchored itself in her fur.

“Hey,” Sieran chided when Trahearne’s laughter didn’t abate. “Enough of that. I’m supposed to be the eccentric one here, remember?”

Trahearne chuckled breathlessly, nodding. This close, Orin could see the green flush across his cheeks. “Forgive me,” he said, “it is just that… well, I’ve somehow found myself to be equally fond of both of you. No... I'm being vague again. Love. I love both of you, more than I can say.”

“Both?” Sieran echoed. “You mean Orin and…” Her voice became tremulous. “Me?”

Orin felt like pieces that had previously been disjointed were finally clicking into place. The way Trahearne had looked at Sieran; the way he’d caressed her cheek. The way he’d watched both of them, hand in hand. It wasn’t just wistfulness. It was longing.

Sieran looked at her, and Orin understood that she was asking for permission. “Orin? Is that… still okay?”

Orin nodded, feeling like she was in a dream. Sieran’s hand slid up the back of Trahearne’s head and knocked it gently against her own. “You see?” she whispered. She pressed her lips to his jaw, and he shivered, glancing down at Orin uncertainly. Orin could tell that he wasn’t convinced she was on board with this.

Heart thumping, Orin leaned up until her face was level with Trahearne’s. She watched as faint surprise and understanding registered in his eyes, and then she brushed her snout against his cheek; just a gentle nudge, but still terrifyingly intimate.

She heard Trahearne take a shaky breath, his hand rising to the side of her face, his fingertips moving tentatively along its length. Orin exhaled. Despite all her fears for the past and present and future, this felt right. It felt right to sit here with them, so close that she could feel them breathe, that their scents mingled in her nostrils until she could hardly tell them apart.

Both sylvari were looking at her now, as if expecting her to say something.

“I… already told Sieran that I don’t know what I’m doing,” Orin said lowly. “But if you both feel the same way I do… I don’t think there’s any point in trying to ignore it. Over the past few months I have come to care about you both so much. If anything happened to you, I…” Her throat grew unexpectedly tight, and she bit off her words, feeling a sudden heat behind her eyes.

A gentle hand stroked through her mane. Sieran. “We love you too,” she said. “Now hush. No one is allowed to worry about the future, not tonight.” She paused. “To be honest, I may be the most surprised by you, Trahearne. Have you always felt that way about me?”

“You’ve always had your charm,” Trahearne admitted with a small smile. “But I didn’t let it become anything more than that until recently.”

“Fair enough. You know, I always did have a bit of a crush on you.”

“Really?”

“Enough with the modesty,” she laughed. “Every sylvari in the Grove has felt that way about you at one time or another.”

“Now I’m sure that’s not true,” Trahearne replied, and there was laughter in his voice too; true laughter now, no longer tinged with panic.

Their mirth was infectious. Orin found herself chuckling, and before she knew it she was nuzzling her face between theirs, rubbing their pollen into her fur. They held onto her tightly, their hands tangled in her fur in much the same way as their hearts were tangled up with hers.

“Oh, listen!” she heard Sieran exclaim happily. “She’s doing the thing! Trahearne, isn’t it just the most wondrous sound you’ve ever heard?”

“Positively cherry,” Trahearne agreed, smiling, and Orin purred louder, and vowed to never let them go.


End file.
